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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25969123">Jetii Manda</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JonathanAnubian/pseuds/Shelaar'>Shelaar (JonathanAnubian)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fix-It of Sorts, Force Sensitivity, Force Visions, Force-Sensitive Jango Fett, Jango is the Jedi who attracts all the Mandos instead of Obi-wan, Jedi, M/M, Mandalorian Culture, Mandalorian Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi Is Bad At Feelings, Planet Galidraan (Star Wars), Role Swap</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:55:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,230</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25969123</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JonathanAnubian/pseuds/Shelaar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since he was born Jango has had a strong connection to the Force. After nearly killing himself and his sister their parents decide to give him to the Jedi Order.</p><p>Being a Mandalorian and a Jedi is hard, he has to deal with a lot of misconceptions and intolerance. But rather than try to conform to their ideals he grits his teeth and throws himself into his studies with determination.</p><p>His life is going perfectly fine until a fateful mission on Galidraan turns his life upside down.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Arla Fett &amp; Jango Fett, Arla Fett &amp; Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jango Fett &amp; Ima-gun Di, Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>416</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Solus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He was only three years old when his first real use of the force saved his life. Somehow managing to climb the old shelf the rusted bolts keeping it affixed to the wall suddenly snapped from his added weight. The entire thing toppled, spilling him onto the floor. Crying out in surprise and fear as everything fell around him he threw out his hand in a futile attempt to stop the shelf from falling toward him. Running out of the kitchen, wiping her wet hands on a towel, his mother cried out in shock when she saw the danger he was in. Pushing the bookshelf back against the wall she scooped him up into her arms and began to cry. He could still remember the way she clung to him as she fell to her knees, realizing what he had done.</p><p>He was nearly five years old when the jedi finally came for him. It had taken over a year, his parents arguing the decision back and forth, since his ability with the force almost got he and his sister killed. Near the end his mother was almost hysterical and his father was so drained he looked like a shadow of his former self. It didn’t help that their son had frequent nightmares that always woke him in the middle of the night or that whenever he was upset he would end up pushing people away without even touching them. In the end he was lucky he had been born on Concord Dawn and not Manda’yaim. Either he would have been given to another family to raise or he would have been killed by the more extreme traditionalists.</p><p>Most families on Concord Dawn kept their children’s force sensitivity secret. It was considered a private family matter and if someone outside the family saw a child using the force they politely averted their eyes and ‘forgot’ what they had seen. But there were the rare few who were too dangerous to keep, too powerful to be properly contained. He was one of them.</p><p>The day he left with the jedi his sister knelt and hugged him to her, her long hair tickling his nose as she held back tears. “I won’t forget you, little brother.” She swore, her voice firm and filled with conviction. His father slipped an amulet over his neck, the clan symbol carved into the small beskar disc.</p><p>His family was not abandoning him, no, they were giving him a better life. A life he would not have had with them.</p><p>With one last look back at his family he took the jedi master’s hand and was led away.</p><p>He would never see his parents, or their farmhouse, again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. T'ad</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jango begins his life as a Jedi but finds a couple of snags when it comes to his heritage.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The chapters won't be all that long. It's a very snapshot kind of fic.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When they reached Coruscant after four days in hyperspace Jango was more than excited to finally see the Jedi Temple. The kind man who had come to get him watched him with a small smile and a feeling of comforting reassurance. His presence was a buffer for the staggering amount of life he could feel from the strange silver and gray planet. He remembered asking the man where all the plants were and getting an amused yet fond look in response.</p><p>When he was brought before the Council for the first time he squared his shoulders as best he could, like his father had taught him, and listened to the adults around him argue. He was a little older than their usual inductees, they’d said, but his strength in the force was too much to ignore. The fact that he could barely speak or write in Basic was just a small hiccup and could easily be rectified.</p><p>He was placed into a clan with other children, a word which he recognized to mean family, and quickly made friends with fellow initiates Tara Dovni, Civit Malkin, and Aylen Shoreh. The language barrier meant nothing to four determined and rambunctious youngsters, although it did cause a fair share of misunderstandings.</p><p>As he grew over the next five years he was saddened by the lack of understanding the jedi had of the Mandalorian people. Once a Knight even mentioned how barbaric their system was and he abruptly stood up in class, looked the male Tholothian dead in the eye, and proceeded to explain that his people were farmers. Just like the Agricorps members they worked with the land to try and heal it, to bring forth new life so that they might thrive. He was written up for disrupting class but he was certain he’d gotten his point across.</p><p>Not everyone who was part of a species, or culture, was a stereotype. The Jedi should know that more than anyone and yet there was still a low level of intolerance in the older generation that rubbed him the wrong way. Thankfully his crechemates supported him, even suggesting he get permission to study Mandalore and Mandalorian culture as part of his year-long societal study project.</p><p>He was scrutinized when he brought it up to the teachers initially but he was given permission, thanks to his impeccable record and high marks. The fact that he had to practically beg to study the culture of his birthplace lit a fire inside of him. Running his fingers over the symbol of the Fett Clan he hatched a plan. It was a simple plan, and there was only a forty-five percent chance of success, but he grabbed hold of the idea and ran with it.</p><p>It took a lot of hard work, long nights studying until the words began to blur together, but he eventually finished his proposal. Normally only senior padawans had to write full proposals for their solo studies and have it approved by the education council. But Jango would not be deterred. He walked right up to the office door, in between classes, and knocked. The knight who was working in the office that day gave him a strange look as he held out the datapad with all the appropriate documents.</p><p>“What’s this?” Jango squared his shoulders, chin high.</p><p>“I want approval for a solo study on the culture of my birth world.” The knight’s eyebrows rose as they looked down at the datapad.</p><p>“How old are you Initiate?” The knight asked.</p><p>“Ten Standard.” They gave him a funny look but nodded and took the datapad with them into the office.</p><p>Jango was called in to a small meeting with Crechemaster Yana and the education council.</p><p>“Why did you feel the need to write this proposal, Initiate Fett? You aren’t even old enough to be selected as a potential padawan for at least another year or so.” Standing tall he looked each of them in the eyes, his mouth a determined line.</p><p>“Ask any of my crechemates if they are allowed to study the culture of their birth world and they will all answer positively. They’re encouraged to connect with their culture, especially if they plan on becoming a diplomat in the future. But because of the bad reputation my birth people have I am barred from research, from speaking my language of birth, and scrutinized if I ask questions. Jedi are not supposed to be biased. I want the same right as anyone else to follow the traditions of my birth people so long as it does not interfere with the Code.” The council was speechless for a long moment before one of the masters turned to the others.</p><p>“I do not see the harm in Initiate Fett speaking the language or knowing more about his people. If he wishes to make it a private study on his own then who are we, as educators, to stop him? I will approve of this proposal so long as he continues to maintain good grades in all of his classes and continues to follow the Code.” There was some discussion and disagreement but in the end he won with a majority vote.</p><p>“That was well done, Jango. I see a future in diplomacy for you.” Crechemaster Yana said with an amused look in their eyes. Jango had to refrain from rolling his eyes. Even though he studied a lot he wasn’t particularly interested in diplomacy or negotiations. His talents lay in other more practical things. Like slicing, engineering, and lightsaber combat.</p><p>Once he turned eleven he asked the quartermaster to help him forge a pair of bracers with the permission of the Council. It seemed they had been following his studies quite attentively, not that he had known until he had asked for some pieces of armor to incorporate into his attire. To his surprise the jedi had some old armor lying around that had been confiscated hundreds of years ago and was just gathering dust in an old back room. It had long since been stripped of paint and the shine on the armor was unmistakably beskar.</p><p>Forging his bracers took an entire weeks worth of finishing his classwork, running to the quartermaster’s forge, and working until latemeal before being sent back to his room for the night. It took painstaking research and a lot of trial and error, since the older texts he had access to were very secretive on how armor was supposed to be forged.</p><p>“You’d think the information would be a lot easier to find.” The quartermaster’s assistant commented one day. “They’ve been wearing armor for thousands of years. How would anyone learn without a manuscript?” Jango had grimaced, wiping his brow with the sleeve of his tunic.</p><p>“Each large Clan has their own Forgemaster. The position is hands-on and someone would be apprenticed to the Forgemaster, often the Forgemaster’s own child, to learn by experience. You don’t want your secrets getting out to an enemy or a rival Clan so everything was taught through oral tradition. I’ve found mentions of specific chants or teaching songs being used but none of them were ever written down. They are not for outsiders to know.” The teen had given him an odd look but dropped the topic.</p><p>When he was finally finished his bracers Tara, Civit, and Aylen congratulated him in Mando’a, which they had been learning alongside him in support. Earning your first pieces of armor was supposed to be an honor. It was supposed to be bestowed on you by someone in your Clan. But when you were a Clan of one there was nothing you could really do but make them yourself.</p><p>It didn’t take long for people to notice his bracers and spread rumors about him. How he was there to infiltrate the jedi, how he was going to leave the moment he was old enough and go back to the Mandalorians, or how he was corrupting his generation. Slowly fewer and fewer knights came to watch his class whenever they were in the salle. The other initiates began to blame him for their lack of prospects but Civit stood by him.</p><p>“If they’re going to ignore everyone because Jango has some fancy metal on his arms then they don’t deserve us! Serim, ner burc’ya?” <em>‘Right, my friend?’</em> Jango grinned.</p><p>“Gar serim.” <em>‘You’re right.’</em></p><p>Eventually all of his crechemates had found a Master and moved to new rooms, leaving him the sole initiate left.</p><p>The whispers started again when others noticed he was alone. Rumors about how vicious he was in the salles, how cold and calculating he was, how impossible it was to read him through the force. Although the first two were absolute banthashite the third was quite true. Within the old Mandalorian texts he’d been studying for the past two years he’d found a couple of force techniques that he’d been practicing on his own. One was the art of wrapping ‘white noise’ around oneself until you became one with the background hum that was present in everyday life.</p><p>Using the technique he would often sneak into the salles at night to practice on his own, away from prying eyes and all of the whispered rumors. It was especially helpful when the nightmares became so prominent that he found he couldn’t sleep. Like tonight.</p><p>Much to his embarrassment he was found that night by one of the Masters. He froze in surprise as the male Nikto smiled at him.</p><p>“Is there a reason you felt a need to practice outside of normal hours, youngling?” Jango shrugged and adjusted his bracers, a bad habit he’d developed whenever he felt anxious. “Ah.” He’d said. “You are Initiate Fett, aren’t you?” For the first time in a long time he felt the burn of anger deep inside his chest but quickly released the feeling into the force.</p><p>“I am, Master. Initiate Jango Fett, that is.” The male nodded to him, pleased to have gotten his identity correct. “If I’m not going to be punished… may I go back to my room?” It was cheeky, and irreverent, but he couldn’t help the bitterness he felt at his treatment lately.</p><p>“Quite strong willed, I see.” The male Nikto chuckled. “I like your spirit, youngling. How would you like to learn Djem So?” Jango’s mouth fell open in surprise for a long moment before his mind caught up to him.</p><p>“It would be an honor, Master.” He meant it with every fibre of his being.</p><p>That was the day he became a padawan, much to the consternation of his peers. Jedi Master Di was one of the lightsaber instructors and was highly sought after as a potential master. Jango couldn’t have asked for a more dedicated teacher.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Ehn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jango’s trip to Illum posed a unique problem he’d never really thought about until now, although he really should have been expecting it all things considered. He was the first Mando Jetii since Tarre Vizla, a legendary ruler of the Mandalore. The weapon he had forged for himself was so legendary that it was still in use to this day to determine who had the right to become the new Mand’alor- the Sole Ruler of the Mandalorian people.</p><p>Anyone who had heard the legend whispered to each other as he passed by with his master, wondering if he would create another ‘dark’ blade like Tarre Vizla. Frustration rose within him and he sorely wanted to challenge those who still didn’t believe he was a Jedi. Thankfully his master was there to shield him, keeping the more turbulent emotions at bay. “Do not heed the unfounded opinions of others, Padawan. We both know that a lightsaber is a reflection of a jedi’s spirit and that no two are alike.”</p><p>When he walks back out of the cave on Illum, dazed and confused, his hand is locked tight around two crystals. They sing to his senses and he can’t help but smiling at his master in triumph.</p><p>The lightsabers he builds for himself are shorter than standard blades by half a foot, meaning he’ll have to get much closer to his opponents if he wants to take them down. But that’s fine. Jango had always been more of a brawler, his hand to hand combat skills impeccable. The first blade is pale blue. So pale, in fact, that it almost appears silvery-gray. The second is such a dark blue it almost appears to be dark purple or black. Neither of them crackle with electricity, like the darksaber is said to do. They sing in perfect harmony as he flows through simple Jar Kai katas, his master smiling proudly at him from the edge of the mat.</p><p>Jango spent his time outside of class with Master Di, learning the intricacies of Djem So, and Master Drallig, who graciously offered to help him learn more about Jar Kai. It was slow going at first but Jango had always been ambidextrous so it was no real challenge to wield a blade in his other hand.</p><p>Over the next few years he and his master went on a lot of missions together, tracking down criminals and following leads. He was told many a time that he would make a good Investigator and, on the advice of his good friend Tara, took a couple of classes in Intergalactic Law. Of course, as with everything he did, he ended up studying Mandalore’s laws and policies as well. Both the older traditions, in whatever texts he could get his hands on, and the new laws imposed by the Republic and the New Mandalorian faction.</p><p>Jago wasn’t sure he liked the blanket pacifism of the New Mandalorians. Especially not with how they were squashing any and all practices that didn’t line up with their political agenda. Some of his peers might sneer and comment about how it must be because violence was in his blood but that wasn’t the reason.</p><p>There was more than one way to kill a people and the way that the New Mandalorians were slowly strangling the Mandalorian way of life out of the people made him sick to his stomach. When he spoke to his master about the matter the male agreed with him, giving off a feeling of pride in the force that made him duck his head shyly.</p><p>Sitting down to dinner one night with his master he pulled out his datapad and set it on the table. There had been a class he’d wanted to take for years but it was age restricted. Now that he was sixteen he could formally ask for permission.</p><p>“Master, I was hoping you’d allow me to sign up for Blaster Training.” The male Nikto set down his bowl and looked at him seriously, blue eyes calm.</p><p>“Why do you want to train with blasters?” Master Di asked, feeling curious and mildly amused in the force.</p><p>“I don’t know. My instincts tell me I’ll need to know in the future.” He said honestly as he finished washing the dishes and putting them away in the cupboard. “Besides, if I want to be good at deflecting blaster bolts I should know how they work.” His master hummed in thought but agreed with his logic on the matter.</p><p>“I’ll agree, on one condition.” Jango sat up straighter. “In addition to the Blaster Training you will take basic healing and first aid classes.” Jango smiled at his master and agreed. They were both useful skills to have and he was more than happy to learn.</p><p>The next day he was enrolled in the blaster training and first aid courses, usually only taken by jedi knights who had a tendency to go undercover.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Cuir</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Galidraan, Part 1.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When he was nineteen years old he and his master were tapped for an emergency mission to a planet in the outer rim territories. According to the mission report a group of Mandalorians were slaughtering innocent protesters and the Governor had called for aid. Master Dooku had been chosen to lead the mission and Jango wanted to sigh when the man’s padawan, Komari Vosa, loudly asked why they were allowing ‘someone’ along who was ‘clearly biased.’</p>
<p></p><div>
  <p>“Would you assume I was biased if we were to return to my planet of birth and oppose a group of criminals there?” His master asked the young woman lightly, presence calm and questioning in the force. To her credit the older padawan looked ashamed of her pointed question and quickly apologized to him. Jango nodded in acceptance and turned to regard his master. There was something scratching at the back of his mind, like a warning from the force, but he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. Jango wasn’t known for his connection to the Unifying force.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Master… there’s something wrong with the report.” He said, trying to keep his agitation under wraps while he voiced his concerns. “They don’t mention what faction of Mandalorians are attacking their citizens. No colors or markings, no clan affiliation.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t feel right, Master. What if there is more than one faction of Mandalorians on the planet? We could end up hurting an innocent party by mistake.” Jango worried that he was, in fact, letting his own affinity for his people color his perception of the situation but Master Di just placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“That is a valid concern, padawan mine. I also find the lack of details quite worrisome. I will go and speak with Master Dooku about this.” He smiled, shoulders relaxing. “But ready yourself, padawan, if they are truly killing innocent civilians then you cannot falter. Your blades and skills are meant to protect others. Don’t let sentiment blind you.” Taking a deep breath he let it out slowly and nodded once he felt more balanced.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Of course, master. I think I’ll meditate a while on this.” Master Di smiled at him, sending a feeling of pride along their bond.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jango might not have been strong in the Unifying force but his affinity for the Living force more than made up for it. It had always been obvious that his talents lay in his instincts, the ability to act and react instantly without conscious thought. It was why he had trained his body just as hard as he had trained his mind. Being able to move wherever the force needed him required strength and agility. Right now everything in him was screaming at him that something was wrong with the mission- and it had nothing to do with his interest in his birth culture.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He wasn’t certain what Master Di had said to Master Dooku but when they arrived on the planet they were ordered to stay back and wait for a signal. “Master Di, would you and your padawan accompany me? I wish to speak with these Mandalorians myself to confirm they are the criminals we are searching for.” Jango was surprised and looked to his master for guidance. Master Di smiled at him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Your knowledge on Mandalorian language and culture will be of great help to us in this endeavor.” Jango smiled back at his master, more than ready to act as an ambassador to the two groups he had grown to respect.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>It was a long trek over snowy ground but they eventually came upon the Mandalorians’ camp. Immediately weapons were drawn and he could feel the sharp spike of wariness in the force. Looking up at his master he nodded and took a careful step forward.<em> “My name is Jango Fett. We are not here to fight you. We wish to speak with your leader- peacefully.”</em> The Mandalorians stiffened when they heard the accented Mando’a, looking at one another in confusion.</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>“Did you say Fett?”</em> The first one asked, dark blue helmet trained on him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>“I did.”</em> Carefully reaching into his tunic he pulled out the medallion he always wore and held it up before tossing it to the warrior. <em>“Jango Fett of the Fett clan. I was born on Concord Dawn.”</em> There was a feeling of recognition in the force as the first Mandalorian handed the necklace to the second. There was a flurry of hand signs between them before the second one dashed off toward the camp, taking his medallion with them.</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>“One of our leaders will be out to speak with you in a moment. Stay where you are.”</em> Jango relaxed and nodded politely, stepping back toward the two masters.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“They said that one of their leaders will be out to speak with us in a moment. I think they recognized my clan emblem.” Master Dooku frowned slightly but chose to remain quiet as they waited. It wasn’t long until two Mandalorians came striding out of the camp toward them, the guard a few steps behind.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The first was wearing primarily black armor with red vambraces and golden pauldrons. Jango wondered who had been killed that this warrior would want to avenge. The second was wearing a deep brown set of armor with bright red pauldrons, the colors leaning more towards valor and defiance.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jango stepped forward and bowed when they came closer, expecting the warriors to stop and speak with him. Instead the one in black kept coming toward them, getting faster as they came closer until they were practically running. Behind him Master Di and Master Dooku reached for their weapons. Jango threw out his arm, holding them back, as a familiar feeling came over him. The warrior reached up and threw off their helmet three steps from him before throwing their arms around him in what was clearly a hug.</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>“Vod’ika! I never thought I would see you again!”</em> Smiling he hugged the shorter blonde woman to him, joy radiating from the both of them in waves. A minute or so later Arla stood back, eyes watery, and looked up at him. <em>“Stars, you look so much like buir!”</em> He chuckled.</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>“How are they?”</em> The woman’s expression fell and she looked down at the medallion clutched in her hand before holding it out to him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>“They’re dead. They were killed a few years after they sent you away. Kyr’tsad raided the farm, the cowardly bastards.”</em> Jango felt her grief and rage in the force and shuddered at the strength of it.</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>“They are not gone, merely marching far away… I’m sorry.”</em> His sister watched him quietly for a moment before sighing and taking his hand. She handed him back his medallion and closed his hand over it.</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>“That’s in the past. The man who saved me adopted me into his clan and I’ve been with the Haat Mando’ade since then. We fight Kyr’tsad whenever we can but we have to earn a living somehow. That’s why we’re here working for the governor. He’s been having some trouble with local insurgents and hired us to take care of it.”</em> She frowned. <em>“Is that why the jetiise are here?”</em> Jango had no words.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Master, Arla says that she and her group were hired by the Governor to fight against insurgents.” The woman picked up her helmet and clipped it to her belt, watching the three of them. Jango had no doubt she understood Basic just fine and was listening in intently.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“That conflicts quite perfectly with the report we received from the Senate. Is this young woman their leader?” Jango turned to his sister who shook her head.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I am the third in command. Arla Fett of Clan Mereel, Jango is my younger brother.” Master Di sent him amusement-curiosity along the bond and he responded positively. Even after all these years he would never mistake his sister for anyone else. Force signatures didn’t lie.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Who is your shadow?” Master Dooku asked pointedly, looking at the brown and red clad warrior who was hovering behind Arla.</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>“Obi, vod’ika, get your skinny ass over here.”</em> The other warrior stiffened for a moment before huffing and stepping closer. <em>“Helmet off, vod. Greet our guests properly.”</em> Jango felt a spike of offense-annoyance in the force before the warrior complied. Beneath the helmet a redheaded teen, not much younger than himself, glared at them with stormy blue-green eyes.</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>“I am Obi-wan Mereel, of the Mereel Clan.”</em> The teen had a strange accent, as if Mando’a was not his original language, but he clearly spoke it fluently. There was a stubborn tilt to his chin and a sharp intelligence in his eyes. Jango couldn’t help but to stare at him. There was something about him that felt almost… familiar. Shoving the sensation away for the time being he turned back to his sister.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Arla, the Senate sent us to stop a group of Mandalorians who are killing unarmed civilians. The Governor reported it to the Senate, who asked the Order to act immediately. They told us they had already investigated the matter.” The woman’s eyes went wide before her expression turned thunderous.</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>“Fucking bastards! The Mand’alor is headed for the Governor’s mansion to receive our pay for this job as we speak! We’ve been set up!”</em> Turning to the redhead she grit her teeth. <em>“Obi, alert Myles and try to contact Jas’buir. This whole thing is a fucking trap!” </em></p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Padawan?” Jango turned to his master.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“They’re trying to contact their leader. He went to the Governor’s mansion to receive their pay. It’s a trap.” Master Di and Master Dooku shared a look of alarm. “We need to investigate the Governor.” He said firmly, feeling the truth of it all the way to his bones. Master Di put a hand on his shoulder.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I am proud of you, padawan. If you had not insisted we speak with the Mandalorians we might never have learned of this betrayal. Master Dooku?” The other master blinked, scowling heavily.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“We will reconvene with the others. Arla… Mereel, is it?” His sister turned to regard the man carefully, eyes hard.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Fett. Commander Fett.” Master Dooku nodded politely.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Would you be interested in a joint mission, Commander Fett?” A small smile crossed her face.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“That depends, jetii, what did you have in mind?” Master Dooku gave her a superior smile of his own.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I believe it is time we had an audience with the Governor. I have been led to believe your people use jetpacks and have advanced scouting technology? Perhaps you would be interested in hearing what the Governor has to tell us about these… criminals.” Arla’s smile was as bright as a star and as feral as a nexu.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I think that sounds like something I can work with.” She held out her arm and, in place of either master, Jango clasped forearms with her, grinning in excitement.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The Governor wasn’t going to know what hit him.</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Obi-wan is only 3 years younger than Jango in this.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Rayshe'a</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Standing beside his master he watched the Mando’ade as they hurried about their tasks around him and felt a sense of belonging that must have echoed down the master/padawan bond. His master sent warm acknowledgment in return, pleased to see he felt relaxed around his birth people, rather than chastising him for being distracted like some masters would have been. Like Dooku looked to be. Once again Jango silently thanked the Force, the Manda, and the Ka'ra for the gift of his master.</p><p>Halfway through the discussion of what they were going to do, having successfully warned the Mand’alor and expecting his swift return, Master Di politely stopped Arla with a smile in the middle of an explanation. “I believe that my Padawan would be better suited to working with your people to relay information, rather than going with Master Dooku and I to the Governor’s mansion.” There was a stunned silence as everyone looked to him, as if trying to gauge his reaction to the sudden change in plans. Jango nudged his master along their bond, confusion warring with agitation in his mind.</p><p><strong>‘It is not that I find you incapable, Padawan mine. But I believe you will do well as the liaison to your people, since you are already fluent in the language. I also believe they will listen to you, where they would not listen to a Jedi Master. Even without having met you, you already have a good reputation as a result of being related to one of their leaders. There is a chance to do good here, to re-build bridges that were burned long ago.’ </strong>Understanding his Master’s intentions Jango sent along acknowledgment in the force and turned back to his sister. He could sense a simmering of apprehension and determination, a small frown tugging at her lips. She wants to ask him so many questions but they do not have time now.</p><p>“If the Commanders agree then I would be more than happy to work with them. But it’s not my decision.” Crossing his arms he nods toward Arla, tossing the ball into her court. The Mando’ade look to their Commander, some curiously and others incredulously. It was a little hard to tell sometimes with the beskar’gam they were wearing. Mandalorian iron had that annoying habit of blocking or muddling the force, depending on how much beskar was in the armor. Making it hard to read the older helmeted warriors. Thankfully his own bracers didn’t seem to have the same effect on him and he had to wonder if something was done during the forging process that he’d missed. Something that made their armor resistant to the force.</p><p>“You can stick with us. In the heat of battle there won’t be time to translate orders and some of my people aren’t fluent in Basic yet. Having a jetii around who can speak Mando’a will be useful.” She paused for a moment and squinted at him, as if trying to judge something with her eyes alone.<em> "Can your force shit stand in for a jet-pack or are we going to need to grab you one of the extras, Jan’ika?”</em> There was a moment where everyone seemed to hold their breath as Arla used the Mandalorian diminutive in place of his name; as if they expected the jedi to react with offense. Jango didn't mind it. It had been  long time since anyone had called him 'Little Jan.'</p><p><em>“I’ve never trained with a jetpack, Ara’vod, and I don’t think the force will allow me to scale a castle quickly enough to keep up with you. Someone is going to have to lend me a hand.”</em> He said without missing a beat. He could feel Arla’s surprise-joy-melancholy the moment she recognized her old nickname, from back when Jango couldn’t pronounce Ori’vod or Arla properly.</p><p><em>“Ob’ika, think you can handle it? You’re closer in size than I am.”</em> The redhead nearby stiffened slightly, blue eyes turning to give Jango a once over. Truthfully they weren’t that far apart in height, although Jango was certainly more broad in the shoulders than the more slender teen. There was a slight hesitance but the redhead slowly nodded.</p><p><em>“I can do it, but only because you asked me.”</em> He let out an amused snort at the almost polite and serene tone the other teen had used. Jango could feel the turbulent stormcloud of his emotions in the force and knew he was anything but calm. That earned him a glare but Arla just gave her adopted younger brother a quelling look and the teen looked away with a small huff. Briefly Jango wondered if sharing a sister meant that he and the redhead were siblings now but quickly dropped the idea a moment later as irrelevant. Maybe if he had time for questions later he could ask Arla about it but it wasn't important for the mission.</p><p>"Padawan?" Turning to the two masters he realized the exchange had been in Mando'a and felt a small twinge of embarrassment for not translating immediately.</p><p>"The Commander was asking if I could use a jetpack, I told her I could not. Mereel offered to give me a lift." Master Dooku gave him a stern look, sensing that he had not translated everything as directly as he could have but accepting that was all he was going to get for an explanation. Master Di, sensing his own emotions, sent along a hint of mischief and amusement. Jango had to work hard not to grin.</p><p><em>"Please tell me he has something other than a single jetii'kad."</em> One of the Mando'ade complained, a little too loudly. Arla turned to glare at whoever it was but Jango just laughed.</p><p><em>"First of all, I have two jetii'kade, not one. Second, I'm never unarmed when I have the Force. And third-"</em> Slipping off his outer robe he folded it over one arm and motioned to the twin blasters tucked snugly into thigh holsters.<em> "Does that answer your question?"</em> Someone in the back let out a whistle of appreciation. Master Di turned away, a hand over his mouth to hide a chuckle behind a fake cough.</p><p><em>"A jetii with common sense! Figures they'd be one of ours."</em> There was a bout of snickering as Arla rolled her eyes. Jango was glad he wasn't in her position. Trying to order this lot around must have been like herding tooka kits. Much like jedi initiates he imagined.</p><p>Arla's comm went off and she quickly turned to check who it was. He felt her triumph and relief before she turned back to them. "The Mand'alor has returned and is on his way now." The relief in the room was almost palpable as a low buzz of excitement took its place. Jango stood a little straighter, eyes going toward the entrance. He wanted to meet the man who had adopted his sister and judge him for himself, even though he knew he had no real right to argue with the decision. He was a jedi and even though he knew he was allowed, even encouraged, to care about others he had a duty to the Order first and foremost. As long as his emotions and relationship with his sister didn’t get in the way with his duty no one would call him on it.</p><p>Except perhaps Master Dooku. The older master was eying his blasters with such disdain that it made him want to bristle defensively in the force. Thankfully Master Di was there to soothe his anger and remind him that he had chosen to walk a difficult path within the Order. The feeling of encouragement and love from his master made him calm considerably. He stood steadfast under Master Dooku’s scrutiny until the man tired of it and moved on to speaking with Arla about what their recording devices could do, what their range was, etc.</p><p>There was a sudden lull in the conversation as a man in beskar’gam with red pauldrons and cape entered the command center. It was clear from the way the Mando’ade reacted to the man that he was Jaster Mereel, current Mand’alor of the True Mandalorian faction. Immediately Arla rammed herself under the man’s arm, giving him a quick hug. Jaster chuckled and hugged her back before pulling off his helmet and clipping it to his belt. On his way to the three jedi he ruffled the redhead’s hair with an amused air as the teen scowled.</p><p><em>“I’m told I have you to thank for the save? That you’re Arla’s long lost jetii vod’ika?”</em> The man stopped and stared right at him, intelligent eyes focused. They dipped down to his bracers and the twin pistols before catching his eye. Jango felt himself standing straighter, wanting to at least pass muster.</p><p><em>“Yes, Mand’alor. I am Arla’s younger brother, Jango Fett. The two with me are Master Dooku, who is in charge of our mission, and my own master, Master Di.”</em> The man let out a curious hum before scrutinizing the two jedi masters with him. Master Dooku he seemed a little wary of, although it was hard to tell behind his impressive mental shields, while Master Di was looked upon with favor.</p><p>“You took someone who was clearly Mandokarla as your student?” Jango felt his face flush slightly in response to the compliment, although he was certain a lot of his peers would consider it insulting to be considered someone who embodied the Mandalorian spirit rather than the epitome of Jedi virtues.</p><p>“He has always been a hard worker and is a wonderful student. I am very proud of him and all he has accomplished.” Master Di responded fondly. Jango had the sudden urge to look at his feet. Sure he was confident in his skills, and his master praised him whenever he did well, but hearing his master telling others he was proud made him feel a little bashful.</p><p>“Hm.” The Mand’alor turned to look at Arla for a moment, she smiled brightly and Jango’s fears eased. It was obvious that they cared for each other.<em>"I know your name as my clansman, Jango Fett of the Mereel Clan."</em> Jango’s mouth dropped open in surprise, along with pretty much all the Mando’ade save Arla- who was absolutely beaming in response to her buir’s words.</p><p>He couldn’t breathe suddenly. So many emotions were warring inside him at the sudden declaration. Not to mention all the emotions of the various Mando’ade who were present to hear their Mand’alor claim Jango for Clan Mereel.</p><p>“Padawan?” His master’s voice brought him out of his stunned silence.</p><p>“It was… a kind of adoption vow. The Mand’alor has adopted me into his clan.” The feeling of surprise/offense from Master Dooku made him want to glare at the older man but the surprise/curiosity of his master took precedence.</p><p>“What does this adoption entail? As Jango is my student, and under my guidance, I may have to ask you to rescind your claim on him.” The Mand’alor snorted in amusement.</p><p>“I’m not stealing your child from you, jetii. He is free to come and go as he pleases and holds no obligations to me, so long as he hasn’t sworn to the Resol’nare.” Jango shifted on his feet, frowning. He had wanted to swear the Resol’nare when he was younger, until he realized it would mean putting something else above the Jedi Order and the Force. As much as he loved his birth culture and wanted to stay true to it, he refused to compromise his ideals as a Jedi.</p><p>“My oaths as a Jedi supersede all other loyalties. I am a Jedi first, before I am a Mando’ad. I have not worn to the Resol’nare.” The Mand’alor stepped forward and placed a steady hand on his shoulder.</p><p><em>“You do your guardian proud, boy. Like I said, I’m not trying to steal you from your buir. You being a part of the clan just means that if you need us, we’ll be there. I owe you my life and the lives of my people, if it hadn't been for you many would have died. Besides, I think Arla would have shivved me if I hadn’t made you at least a part of our clan.”</em> The man winked and stepped away from him again. Jango let out a laugh and nodded, feeling a newfound respect for the man. It was probably true about his sister, too. She’d always been the more vicious one between them.</p><p>He didn’t even try to correct him about Master Di being his buir. Under all the criteria in Mandalorian society Master Di was legally his parent.</p><p>“Now. What are we going to do about this giant mess? What plans have you come up with?” And with that it was back to business.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Resol</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>With the Jedi and the Mandalorians working together there is a much better outcome to Galidraan.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a recap of character ages;</p><p>Arla- 25<br/>Jango- 19<br/>Komari- 18<br/>Obi-wan- 16</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jango wasn’t with the group who would be confronting the Governor and he was entirely okay with that. He suspected that the Mand’alor and the Masters had discussed his involvement at length and decided he would be put to better use somewhere else. Instead he had been placed with the main infiltration force. Padawan Vosa on the other hand… Jango had to lean into his master’s serenity when the other padawan had complained, loudly, that she would be better suited to the group who would be confronting the Governor.</p><p>Clearly Master Dooku disagreed.</p><p>Now Jango wouldn’t have cared so much about her little fit of anger if she hadn’t also insulted the majority of the Mando’ade, not seeming to care that most of them at least understood Basic and had clearly heard her. He could feel the low buzz of anger around him and it was making it a little difficult for him to stay calm in return. But his master didn’t chide him for it, just enveloped him in calm understanding for which he was grateful.</p><p>Jango knew from his own cultural studies that if Vosa hadn’t been technically under the protection of the Mand’alor, being one of the Mando’ade’s temporary allies, a few of them would have challenged her for the insult dealt to their honor. Mereel in particular was standing by stiffly, gloved hands clenched and practically vibrating with barely contained anger.</p><p><em>“Is she always like this?”</em> One of the nearby Mando’ade asked him, disgust clear in their voice.</p><p><em>“I don’t know her well but she is… volatile.”</em> The slight tilt of the head was incredulous and he snorted in amusement, crossing his arms over his chest. <em>“She’s Dooku’s student so expect her to be good in a fight, but I don’t think she’d be up to any diplomatic missions any time soon.”</em> It was a little unkind of him to say but he needed them to understand that not everyone in the order was like Komari. <em>“She’s still young.”</em> He remarked.</p><p><em>“And you aren’t? Have you even been through your verd’goten?”</em> Someone asked. He could barely feel them in the force but what he sensed was more curiosity than disdain. The Mand’alor’s adoption of him into the clan, and Arla’s clear regard for him despite them being apart for so long, had colored the way they viewed him and it showed.</p><p><em>“My buir took me on a hunt when when I hit thirteen, after I’d had a year of practice with my own jetii’kad’e.”</em> He could tell when their focus shifted to his belt, where his twin lightsabers hung almost innocently. Through the force he could feel vague amusement from his master but also curiosity at his slightly disgruntled mood. He sent back the general dissatisfaction he knew the Mando’ade were feeling about Padawan Vosa and felt a brush of <strong>‘it will be handled’</strong> over their bond.</p><p><em>“Your buir?”</em> Jango nodded, feeling his cheeks heat slightly.</p><p><em>“He swore an oath to be my guardian, to raise, protect, and train me. What is that if not a buir?”</em> There was a long silence before he felt their acceptance of his words.</p><p><em>“Okay, fair enough. Didn’t think jetiise could have families though.”</em> It was a common misconception.</p><p><em>“We can. As long as our loyalty to one another does not interfere with our duty it is allowed.”</em> He hesitated. If he wanted to bridge the gap between the Mando’ade and the Jedi he needed to be honest.<em> “Some of the Jetiise believe that we shouldn’t form any close emotional bonds at all, in case it drives us toward being a Dar’jetii. But as long as our care for one another doesn’t become selfish the Jetiise won’t try to stop it.”</em> There were a few more considering looks before Arla turned away from the small meeting she was having with the Mand’alor and the two Jedi Masters.</p><p><em>“Jan’ika, you’ll need a comm if you’re going to be linking up with the rest of us. Don’t suppose I could get you into a set of armor?”</em> She asked with an amused grin. Jango grinned in return.</p><p><em>“I’ve never trained in full armor, not that I would have minded, but I have a comm integrated into my bracers.”</em> His sister nodded in understanding, although there was a mischievous glint in her eyes.</p><p><em>“Give me the code and we’ll add you to the network.”</em> As he was pulling up the information Jango watched Mereel sidle up to Arla and pull off his helmet out of the corner of his eye. Being in her presence calmed the raging emotions the redhead was feeling and it showed. His shoulders relaxed and his eyes became less storm-like.</p><p><em>“There, frequency forn-2.5.”</em> He nodded and made a quick check. Arla looked at her own comm and nodded in satisfaction. <em>“So,”</em> she began, <em>“she’s a piece of work.”</em> She thrust her thumb back over her shoulder toward Padawan Vosa and Jango snorted.</p><p><em>“She’s a hothead, alright, but a talented warrior.”</em> Arla let out an unimpressed hum of agreement as Mereel rolled his eyes.</p><p><em>“What about you? Any good with those blasters?”</em> He could hear the light teasing tone in his sister’s voice and smiled.</p><p><em>“Decent.”</em> He admitted. <em>“I haven’t had much of a chance to go up against other Mando’ade so I’m not sure how I stack up.”</em> Mereel frowned.</p><p><em>“You really consider yourself a Mando’ad?”</em> Arla frowned, looking at her adopted brother.</p><p><em>“This going to be a problem for me, Ob’ika?”</em> The other teen scowled but looked away.</p><p><em>“I do. I know I can’t fully swear to the Resol’nare, and by all accounts that makes me an aruetii, but I follow it as closely as I can without breaking my oaths to the Jetiise.”</em> He had hoped that he’d get less flak from the Mando’ade but he wasn’t afraid to fight for his right to be both a Jedi and a Mandalorian. <em>“Education and armor, self defense, our tribe, our language, and the Mand’alor.”</em> He held up his hand and ticked down each of the tenets, leaving out the last. <em>“Like I told the Mand’alor, I can’t swear to him because it would mean putting something other than my duty to the Force and the galaxy first. But I follow all the other tenets.”</em> Mereel frowned but didn’t seem eager to say anything in response so he considered the matter dropped for the time being.</p><p><em>“You’re mandokarla, Jan’ika, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise!”</em> His sister said, placing her fist against his chest, over his heart. He smiled, feeling the warmth of affection and firm belief settle in his chest.</p><p><strong>‘Padawan, we are ready to begin.’</strong> He straightened and looked toward his master, who was smiling at him from the other side of the large tent.</p><p><strong>‘Yes, master. We’re coming.’</strong> He sent in return. <em>“Time to head out.”</em> He said, nodding toward the Mand’alor who had also turned to look at them.</p><p><em>“Stay alive, Jan’ika.”</em> He held out his arm for her but laughed when she hugged him instead.</p><p>
  <em>“Come back safely, Ara’vod.”</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>Being paired with Mereel for the flight wasn’t all that bad. The other teen was clearly agitated in the force, which was thankfully muffled by the beskar of his helmet, but he didn’t shirk his duty. When the signal was given the teen grabbed onto him tightly and lifted him off the ground, the jetpack powerful enough to carry the two of them up to one of the rooftops where they were setting up for a possible ambush. The plan was to get a confession out of the Governor and subdue any guards he might send in to try and fight the Jedi Masters, the Mand’alor, or both.</p><p>Arla had lent him a nice rifle from their stores of extra weapons and he had spent a short time testing out the grip and the sights before agreeing to use it. At the moment he was partially crouched behind a decorative stone statue as he waited for the signal.</p><p>Nearby Mereel was laying flat, his helmet equipped with long range sensors and tracking programs, with his own rifle at the ready.</p><p>Closing his eyes Jango opened himself up to the force, letting it flow through him. He could sense the warriors nearest to him, even if they were somewhat muffled by the force, and extended his reach past them. At first he didn’t get much, just the usual low level buzz of life that came from a civilized planet. Then… there!</p><p>Snapping out of his impromptu meditation he lifted his vambrace and barked into it. <em>“Above!”</em> It was the only warning they had before Kyr’tsad appeared, their black armor a mockery of everything Jango stood for.</p><p>As they fired down on the roof Jango’s lightsabers sprang into his hands and he deflected the bolts with ease, flipping backward to avoid one of the terrorists as they tried to jump him. It seemed they weren’t all there if they were attempting to tackle a kirffing Jedi who held two lightsabers! Nearby Mereel slid his blade into the soft, unprotected, area between armor plates and dropped his own opponent, feeling frigid in the force.</p><p>The force blared in warning and Jango’s head snapped to the right even as his brought up his hands to defend himself. A rocket came screaming toward a group of Haat’ade and he grit his teeth as he reached out to the force and willed it to stop midair. It took almost all of his concentration to keep it there and he blinked in surprise when a sudden blaster bolt took it out. The backlash was going to give him a headache later he was certain.</p><p>He glanced toward Mereel who was holding a blaster in one hand and vibroblade in the other. The other teen gave him a curt nod before he turned and used his jetpack to get a better vantage point.</p><p>The battle felt like it lasted forever but it couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes before all of their opponents were either dead or incapacitated. At one point during the fight he remembered fighting back to back with Mereel, who was still glacier cold in the force.</p><p><em>“Status report!”</em> Mereel tapped his helmet and spoke quickly, giving Arla an update on the attack.</p><p><em>“Where’s buir?”</em> Mereel asked, the barest hint of worry and fear filtering through the cold facade.</p><p><em>“He’s wounded but will be fine. You missed a good fight Ob’ika, I’ll be sure to show everyone what I caught on holo later. Safe to say that we won though. Now that Clan Mereel has the Dha’kad’au there won’t be many who will turn away from the fact that buir is the true Mand’alor.”</em> Jango’s mouth fell open slightly in surprise.</p><p>The Dha’kad’au, the Darksaber! Stars, he wanted to see it. Even if he had been worried as a kid that his own lightsabers would mimic the ancient blade because of his Mandalorian heritage he still yearned to see it with his own eyes. It was a piece of history tied to both the Jedi and the Mando’ade, how could he not?</p><p>A cheer went up over the comms as Arla’s comm was shut down by a priority message.<em> “Vizla is dead and his people have surrendered. The jetiise will be taking them back to their temple with them to shove it in the face of the Republic how wrong they were about us. Don’t interfere. Regroup at the main camp, we’re getting off this rock. Mereel out.”</em> Jango snorted in amusement. The man was clearly tired and ready for this all to be over.</p><p>As the squad he was with began to check one another for injuries one of the medics sidled up to him, giving him an obvious once over. He chuckled.</p><p><em>“I’m fine, I didn’t sustain any damage.”</em> Maybe a little force exhaustion but that wasn’t something a field medic could fix.</p><p><em>“If you’re sure.”</em> He couldn’t really place the voice with the modulation from the helmet but he thought it might be a woman. <em>“Need a lift back to base camp?”</em> Before he could answer Mereel’s head swiveled toward them and Jango could practically feel the scowl.</p><p><em>“Arla gave that job to me.”</em> And if his voice was anything to go off of Mereel took that fact very seriously. The medic raised their hands in the air and backed off, giving off feelings of amusement in the force. Why, he had no idea.</p><p>Once the two of them were alone, the others going off to help those with damaged or missing jetpacks, he turned to the younger teen. <em>“You sure about this, Mereel? If you aren’t keen on it I can always tell Arla that I was the one who decided to go with someone else.”</em> There was an odd flash of something warm before the cold was back again.</p><p><em>“It’s fine. I’ll take you.”</em> It wasn’t quite a snarl but it was fairly close.</p><p><em>“If you’re sure... thank you Mereel.”</em> The teen watched him silently for a moment.</p><p><em>“Obi-wan… call me Obi-wan.”</em> He smiled and held out his arm for the other teen.</p><p>
  <em>“Then please, call me Jango.” </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Mando'a;</p><p>Buir- Parent<br/>Jetii'kad'e- Lightsabers, plural<br/>Verd'goten- The traditional rite of passage in Mandalorian culture in which a Mandalorian youth was accepted as an adult.<br/>Dar'jetii- Sith<br/>Kyr'tsad- Death Watch, a Mandalorian terrorist group.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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